To Follow the Angel
by TheElf911
Summary: Ello! So I decided to write this little piece for PotO Phantom of the Opera just cause I had this lil mind picture that I wanted to write out.. sounds kinda weird, but ya. Anywho, I hope u enjoy it and hopefully it "fits".
1. Chapter 1

To Follow the Angels

Chapter One

Christine Daaé was preparing for bed. She had been a marvelous success at the Opera and had just finished her performance in _Romeo and Juliet_. Still in her extravagant costume, Christine sat at her dressing table dreaming contentedly of her evening. Out of nowhere, a voice drifted to her,

"You sang beautifully tonight."

A soft smile spread across Christine's pale lips. It was the Angel of Music. Almost in a whisper, she replied, "I sang my best for you. My heart soared as I sang. I wanted to follow the angels and float amongst the pallid light of the approaching morning." Christine closed her eyes to remember once more the flight of her seraphic song. Her loose curls fell freely on her neck and shoulders.

The Angel of Music spoke tenderly, "Once you come to me, you can seek your dreams. Come to me and I will teach you to capture the most angelic of all sounds."

Christine's face was pale, but her eyes were sparkling as to put even the most finely cut sapphire to shame. She held out her arms; wishing she could embrace such a gift already. Walking closer to her full length mirror, Christine put her hand forth and touched her reflection. At her caress, it slid into a thin slit in the wall.

"Come to me, and I will make you soar to the highest parts of Heaven," called the voice in an alluring tone.

Christine gently wrapped her arms in a silk shawl, letting it drape down to the ground. The silvery flowers on her shawl brushed lightly along the smooth floor. Down into the dim corridor she glided towards the Angel of Music.

Far within the heart of the Opera was the Angel of Music's dwelling. Beside it, was its enchanting lake. It mirrored all the lit candles surrounding the lake, making an eerie glow fill the cavern under the Opera. As Christine descended, the Angel drifted towards her in a boat as Christine's path met the shore.

Silently, the Angel held out his hand to Christine. With perfect trust, she placed her hand in his as she stepped carefully into the small boat. The Angel pushed off the shore with a pole and they began to float off on the lake; dividing the shimmering water to reveal dark, murky waters underneath.

Once they reached the Angel's haven, the Angel led Christine into a chamber behind a rich tapestry. Inside was a desk covered in papers; showing the painstaking construction of a dramatic play. Against the opposite wall was a grand piano with a complex piece of music on it. That, too, had been recently composed, no doubt from some haunting memory that could only be released through the numerous movements. Christine looked around her with vivid, bright eyes as if she was in a dream.

All this time the Angel of Music had been holding her hand, guiding Christine to her next revelation in singing. He left her standing next to the piano, gave her a piece of paper with a song on it, and sat down on the piano bench. Christine read it quietly; absorbing each word. Laying it aside, she glanced at the Angel. He began to play the prelude to the song slowly and with great feeling. Then, Christine began to sing. Her voice sounded like the most seraphic thing ever imaginable on this earth. Floating to the sleeping Opera above, many a person's dreams were ingrained with the sweet sound. Closing her eyes, Christine folded her hands and let loose her soul into the song. She didn't need a reminder of the song; it matched her thoughts perfectly. It was designed only for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Christine was asleep on her bed. As her eyes fluttered open, she tried to remember if last night was a dream or reality. All Christine could recall was that it had been the most heavenly night she had ever experienced. As she glanced around her room with dazed eyes, Christine's eyes rested on her nightstand. On it was a deep, vibrant red rose. With a sweet but tired smile, she leaned on her elbow and held the rose to smell its saccharine perfume drifting up to her. Last night wasn't a dream.

Sliding out of her bed, Christine pulled back her canopy to let in a flood of the pure morning light. She blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. With her delicate rose in hand, she went over to her dresser, picked up a crystal vase and filled it with water. Gently, she placed the scarlet rose in the vase and gazed out her little window into the street. Small sparrows twittered and swooped here and there for crumbs of food. Christine called to mind how she had taken flight with the Angel the previous night.

"How glorious it was!" she sighed longingly. Christine couldn't but help wishing that she could always be with the Angel. Putting the vase on her windowsill, Christine began to busy herself by getting ready her attire for the oncoming day. While Christine was absent mindedly brushing her hair by the mirror, Madame Giry knocked on the door as she walked in to announce her entry.

"Good morning my child," the woman warmly greeted her musical student. Christine smiled a welcome and continued getting ready. "How was your singing last night, my dear?"

Christine let out a satisfied sigh, "It was wonderful! The Angel had composed a new piece called _Das las Argenté Clair De Lune_ (In the Silvery Moonlight). It was as if it spoke to me." Madame Giry came and sat next to Christine and put her arms around her.

"It is well that you are obtaining so much knowledge of singing from the Angel of Music. Your father would be proud," Madame Giry kissed Christine tenderly on her forehead.

"Christine looked up at her only mother figure with starlit eyes, "Do you really think so?"

"Yes!" Madame Giry replied reassuringly. "And I'm sure that he's listening to your every song with joy, knowing that you're learning from the best."

"Why do you think the Angel picked me?" inquired Christine. "Before he began to teach me, I had never sung before."

Madame Giry thought a moment and then answered, "Christine, I believe that the Angel of Music can sense who can make his songs soar up to the Heavens. You have the sweetest voice that I have ever heard." She smoothed Christine's cheek and stood up to leave but Christine detained her.

"Madame Giry, Last night _was_ the most beautiful night of my entire life," stated Christine in earnest. Just talking about the Angel of Music had brought more color to her delicate features. Her eyes were more brilliant then when she was merely singing with the rest of the choir. Madame Giry smiled and softly shut the door behind her, leaving Christine to dwell on her pleasant thoughts.

Back inside, Christine continued to live as one in an illusion. She couldn't wait for her next visit from the Angel.

"Oh! How I wish that my father _was_ here," mourned the young singer.

As she looked at herself in her long mirror, it suddenly went completely black as if she wasn't there. With a gasp, Christine felt herself to make sure that she was, in fact, still there in some form. Then, slowly melting onto the mirror's surface, the half-masked face of the Angel appeared.

Christine almost fainted when she saw what had happened. No matter how much she loved the company of the Angel, Christine could barely keep from screaming when he unexpectedly melted into her mirror. The Angel of Music stepped out of the mirror and softly took Christine's hand in his. How cold her hand was!

Tenderly, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. Then he spoke, "Will you come with me, Christine?" Trembling still from her fright, Christine nodded as her sweet smile gradually slipped back on her pale lips. And then the Angel, still holding Christine's hand, showed her over to the wall next to her dresser. As if by the Angel's very thought, the wall broke apart and folded inward leaving a passageway open for the pair.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Christine was slightly frightened. As the darkness swallowed her, Christine caught her breath as she clung tighter to the Angle of Music's arm. Her eyes widened as she tried to see her surroundings. Subconsciously, she began to breathe heavier and Christine's hand turned cold in the Angel of Music's.

"Don't be afraid, Christine," whispered the Phantom."I am here. The darkness is only for a little while yet." Even as he spoke in his deep rich voice, he pulled aside a soft, velvety drape from in front of them.

Once again, they were in the deep dwelling place of the Angel of Music. There was a warm Oriental fragrance that hung in the air; accented by the golden glow of the many candles laced with melted wax. Christine gathered her skirts in her slender hand and carefully descended the spiraling staircase.

With protective eyes, the Phantom watched her slowly glide over to the piano. He observed every time that her hand slid absentmindedly over the diminutive haphazard figurines that littered the edges of the maple shelves, rough ledges in the etched stone walls, and claw-legged benches. Unwaveringly, the Angel of Music's gaze rested on his pupil's slim form and with a sigh of near contentment, he followed behind her.

Seating himself at the piano, the Phantom looked up at Christine to see if she was ready to begin. Softly, he played the introduction melody. As her part drew nearer, Christine clasped her hands to her breast and let her heart soar. The Angel of Music listened intently to Christine, hardly paying any attention to what he was playing. He knew the sorrowful piece too well. Color flooded back into Christine's pale face; her lips turned a soft crimson and her eyes sparkled like stars in the far off sky.

After finishing their duet, the Phantom leaned back, "You are ready for your next performance, Christine." He carefully closed the lid over the piano's keys. Gathering the sheet music up in a bundle, he next tied a thin black ribbon around the small stack of papers.

"I feel as if this song is perfectly in harmony with me when I sing it," whispered Christine. "It's so beautiful as if it were from Heaven itself."

The Angel of Music approached her and spoke in an undertone, "Maybe it is. Perhaps an Angel wrote it for you alone."

Christine searched the Phantom's eyes; one honest clear one and the other hidden in the shadow behind his mask, "When shall I sing it for you?"

The Phantom gazed at Christine. He only wished that everything she did was for him and him alone. However, he knew that he couldn't ask that of her. She was too delicate. She needed to be out in the world amongst the golden sunshine and twittering birds. "Everything shall be arranged. Don't worry, Christine, it shall be soon." He himself could hardly wait to see how astounding Christine's next performance would be to the Opera attenders.

Silence reigned for a couple moments until the Angel of Music, with a slight sigh of regret, spoke up, "I must get you back to your room now, Christine. I'll be watching over you." Christine, too, seemed to droop and her countenance fell as she was reminded of her imminent return. Obediently, however, she followed the Phantom out of their musical haven and back to the hidden passage.

Pulling aside the velvet curtain, the Angel of Music motioned for Christine to enter first. He followed her quietly and opened the wall once more to Christine's bedroom.

As she stepped into her apartment, Christine turned quickly around to bid the Angel of Music good bye, but the wall had already slid back into place seamlessly. Once again, he was gone without a sound.

Christine sat down in front of her mirror that was standing on her low dresser. Resting her head on her hand, she analyzed her face. Already, she noted, she had lost her rosy coloring and was once more her soft, pale self. It seemed to her that the Phantom brought her to life.


End file.
